So, I got the response for my surgery.....After getting my letters in order and lining things up and rushing to get it finished for them before my insurance cuts out ((The government is apparently changing branches and cutting off my insurance before referring me to a new one)), I sent out my request for help with my surgery. Just a reduction, not a removal, and it came with nearly two pages of symptoms and sufferings in detail and with dates. Including: Neck pain, back pain, shoulder pain, headaches, rashes, moving ribs, limited mobility, shortened walking distances, difficulty with stairs, muscle relaxants because of difficulty sleeping, open sores, and more.
I got my letter in the mail just before Halloween began.
The response? No. Just plain and simple, no. Unless I have tumors or cancer of some sort of abnormality that cannot be altered with medicine, basically...they wont touch it. They gave the option of Estrogen treatment which might do I have no idea what to help, which sounds honestly stupid to begin with. In honesty, I'd rather off myself than take estrogen. Wtf is the point in even trying....Every time I turn around, I get shot down and stomped on. I cant keep taking this stress and dealing with being lifted up only so they can drop me from a higher height. Maybe I should just go back to being Kristy and make everyone else happy...Life would be easier I guess. Not better, or happier, certainly not any more comfortable. But it seems like that's the only thing I'm allowed to do......So tired of having my heart broke....
Tired of my family hating me. Tired of the drama where I live for being who I am. Getting a lecture for a haircut. Or them trying to convince me to wear feminine things.... Figures, I was just starting to be happy too. First time I've been properly gendered on the first try with a stranger, earlier in the day with my neighbor.
"Hi, who are you?" she asked. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ren" I reply. And without hesitation, she asked my neighbor (mama)'s mother "Is this your grandson?". I grinned and nodded a little "Something like that. Technically Anne Marie is my neighbor but I consider her my Mama".
Grandson......yeah, I kinda like that. But then......then this happens.... I'm just.... So done.
I posted this on a transregulars Facebook group I'm in (love these guys, super supportive and most are my age)
So, recent events have prompted me to start sharing this around again....As some of you have seen already, my insurance has turned me down in my request for a top surgery. I have since talked to my doctor and surgeon, and they said that an appeal will not get far because they will simply give me the same reasons for the first rejection since nothing has changed. If two pages of agonizing symptoms didnt change their minds in the first place, it wont in a second try. Besides that fact, my insurance is cutting out in Janurary due to company changes in government, so an appeal would take too long before it would be too late. Unless I find other means of assistance with this, I'll have to pay out of pocket. The surgeon has been wonderfully helpful and understanding, but he cannot change how the fees work and cannot offer a payment plan for understandable reasons. Nevertheless, I need to somehow come up with the funds to pay for it myself. Even if you guys cannot spare a few (which I totally understand, we're all struggling and money is tight as it is.) Please feel free to pass this around. I HATE doing this and I feel like I'm begging, but in a way I guess I'm not too far from the willingness of begging on my knees. The pain I'm dealing with is beyond what I can express. My ribs are shifting, my already-damaged back is getting worse from the weight, my shoulder is being offset, I cannot sleep at night because theyre limiting my breathing and hurting my back in every position, and even binding is becoming something I dread for its ineffectiveness and unbarable agony. I'm running out of options....I'm not sure what else to do.... -War
We'll see if it goes anywhere......Halloween post in next blog.
Seemingly slipping again,
So, after three weeks of healing, I went back for another session of what I thought would be torture. It turned out to be torture/torment/agony x10. Oh my lard I hurt soooooo soo bad, I went into shock twice and almost passed out a few times. It was probably the worst pain I'd ever felt, surpassing my several bones I've broken and even when I sliced open my palm on a hubcap. The guy (Tim) gave me two options. 1)suck it up, grin and bare it and let him finish it 100% and he'll try to be quick and save me some pain. 2) puss out and do half, come back in another 3 weeks, and pay another 300$ for the session.
I dont have another 300$ so I took a pain pill and told him to just do it. By the end of it, I was shaking from head to toe, almost throwing up, dizzy and in such agony that I felt my throat closing up from wanting to cry. Me being a manly man (lol) I refused myself the tears and just dealt with it. Even him touching the surface to wipe it clean of loose ink made me flinch away and cringe, and at some points I would have my opposite shoulder pressed against the wall as if trying to escape while he was working, because I just could not stay leaned towards him anymore. My body was begging for him to stop, and that little voice in my head went 'no, please stop! stop it, I cant take any more!' every time he leaned down to start tattooing.
Anyway, the pictures: (better ones soon. These ones suck because it's slimy with ointment, blood, oozing ink and swollen to hell)
In the end----totally worth the pain. As soon as he was done, I felt so much better and proud of the work that I forgot the pain. Sort of like childbirth I suppose. After the pain is gone and you hold your child, you forget that you're torn up and bleeding. (so glad that children are not for me lol)
Tattoo Aside, I had other situations. Firstly, I saw my family before going to the tattoo shop. My mother has decided to marry a guy I never met (cant remember if I told you guys that. She dated him in highschool until my grandmother slept with him and broke them up, and they just got back together then 3 weeks later got married.) so I figured it'd be good to make an appearance since I didnt go to the wedding. (faked that I had to work. I really wanted no part of it.) Any my impressions of my new 'stepfather'? He's a douche. I cant stand him, he's so full of himself and makes my younger siblings work and clean house and cook meals while they dont do shit. I only wanted a handshake, he made me hug him. >:( Dont like.
Aside from all that and being misgendered and deadnamed by my 19 yr old brother the whole time (because he's a dick and I sort of expected it from him), my mother (who I thought had turned a new leaf) continued to do the same thing. She not once said my chosen name. And when someone stopped by and she was talking to them from their truck, she pointed at me and said "yeah that's my daughter'. F*** my life....Seriously left in a horrid mood. So much for my family changing for the better......
Here's the f***ed up part.
At the tattoo shop, I couldnt wear my binder and t-shirt because of where he was doing the tattoo. So I'm sitting there in my bra and undershirt, boobs very noticable and unavoidable. Yet NOT ONCE did Tim misgender me. Well, okay, one time. But it doesnt count because he IMMEDIATLY corrected himself and apologized. He's so amazing and always has been with me, and has another FTM friend so he's not trans-retarded and treats me with the utmost respect. Here's the other part. One of his friends came in, who doesnt know me. He walked in as we were talking about my trans issues. One of the topics in the subject came up about showering. Tim mentioned that I must get annoyed in the shower due to my feminine parts, but I admited that I not only get annoyed, I'm disgusted, furious, sick to my stomach---I dont even look down. I avoid all visuals of my chest as possible. His friend caught on to how much my transgender issues hurt me, and Tim went quiet because he felt really bad. And then a miracle happened. His buddy started to talk between the two of us, totally casual and friendly and whatnot (though I caught him staring at my boobs XD I cant complain, they ARE kinda huge) and he only misgendered me one time, and like Tim did, he quickly corrected himself immediatly once he realized he did it. NO PROBLEMS. NO QUESTIONS ASKED, NO JUDGEMENT, NO CONFUSION. Just point blank "This is warren, HE is getting a tat done" then "oh, cool, nice to meet you dude. HIS tat looks awesome".
WHY THE HELL CAN STRANGERS GET IT, BUT MY FAMILY CANT?! I understand that theyve known me longer and its hard to get out of habits, but THEYRE NOT EVEN TRYING. This total stranger who I met for a mass of 5 minutes had MORE RESPECT for me than my family, and he connected to the pain I had with the transgender issues more than my own family. Like they literally dont give a shit how bad it makes me feel, or the depression I deal with from it. I seriously dont know what to do....
ON ANOTHER, HAPPIER NOTE:
My doctor is writing me a 'letter of nessesity' to give to my surgeon who will send it to insurance, and then I'll find out if they'll approve my top surgery. They agreed that both surgeon and doctor would LEAVE OUT the transgender part, and place it down as simply a 'medically beneficial breast reduction', noting my daily pain, limits to daily life, rashes, bruising, sores, headaches, back pain, neck pain, shoulder pain, back popping, rib pain, etc. So maybe the insurance will look at it and go 'wow, ouch, this chick needs this done' instead of 'pffft, she thinks shes a dude. Rule this as cosmetic and deny."
So.....here's hoping. Pray for me, wish me luck, light a candle, whatever it is you guys do.
In a long healing process and sober from self harm for about 2 months,
So, I'm kind of at a loss and need some advice or something, though I'm sure others here have way bigger issues than I do right now. I have a friend whom I have been friends with for just over a year. In the beginning, we were great friends and she helped me out a lot with my transition and acceptance and etc. But ever since my downward spiral, it's gotten.....weird. Originally, we'd planned that I would fly out to her state and hang out for a week (mind you, I'm on the east coast and shes all the way on the west). I admitted that I werent completely comfortable flying (due to anxiety and claustrophobia and never having flown before) so I'd probably have my boyfriend come with me. She expressed that she didnt like the idea, would feel like a third wheel, and I would not be allowed to stay at her house and would need to find my own transportation and hotel. Ouch.
During this time, I hit a horrible depression and was deep deep into self harm and whatnot, and I just could not handle drama so I told her I needed to step away. At which point I had deactivated my facebook. THE NEXT DAY she's messaging almost all my friends to 'go check on me' and making them think that I had killed myself. WTF!? I woke up to 30 messages from frantic people thinking I was dead. Geez, thanks. That helps the stress level squint emoticon She's constantly reminding me that she's still planning for me to come out west, Or she will come to my state instead which I'm not comfortable with. Everyone I talk to about my issues with her say she sounds like a jealous girlfriend. Meanwhile she always complains that she misses 'the old you' (meaning texting every day, happy, jolly, fake-love and happiness 24/7 which was all an act to make her think i was fine) and that I dont seem to care about her things anymore. And let's be honest here, I'm SICK AND TIRED of CONSTANTLY hearing 'im fat. I'm ugly. No one wants me. No guy will ever date me. I'm stupid. I'm fugly'. And there are only so many times I can say "no you're not, dont say that" before I just dont fucking care to respond anymore. I know that's sort of asshole-ish of me but ffs....it gets really really old. Every single time we talk, to me, it feels like we're fighting. But she insists we're not fighting, we're 'talking'. >.> omfg......I make a post complaining about drama and that I was going to bed, and she sends a message going 'didnt realize I was causing the drama.....". BI***, DID I SAY YOUR NAME?! DID I TAG YOU IN IT!? NO! SUCK IT UP, ITS NOT ABOUT YOU.
And when I mention that the constant self pity and whining and crap gets old and that's why I dont respond much anymore (because she gets pissy when I go quiet and so she leaves the convo) she then throws my depression-inflicted complaints back in my face. I cannot help but feel slightly depressed, stressed and aggrivated after ever convo we have. I just......I dont know what to do. I've tried to break it off but she goes bonkers and cries and tells everyone I hate her and goes into a depressive funk until her sister messages me and begs me to talk to her because she starts "crying every night". Idk wtf to do....she still calls me her brother and crap and idk how to confront the situation. On top of that--when I asked her "just to be clear...you only think of me as a brother right?" and she responds with "um........yes". Which to me doesnt sound convincing. Which she follows up with "Can I ask a question? Do you think I'd be good girlfriend material?" o.e like.....what? What in the what---I just--cant---process..... Halp......
I've been warned that she's a stalker in the making but I know she's not. She is not a stalker by any means, and is 100000% incapable of harming me or anyone, and I'm NOT worried about her ever being anything situational. Dont get me wrong, I love her. Love her like crazy as a sister, and I care about her. But I just cannot take the stress anymore....I dont know what to do. In the back of my mind I know that she is 100% straight and KNOWS that I'm female from the waist down, so I shouldnt worry about her having a hidden crush on me or something. But some days I really legit' wonder if that's true or not. I dont want to hurt her feelings, anymore than I already have. But it seems like I'm hurting her ever single time we talk.
She does this "acting" thing where she will act out a non-existant part in a tv show. The 'character' has a name, background, etc. Which normally would be harmless. I mean, hell, I 'act' when I'm thinking up scenes for my books but it's only facial expressions, talking to myself in-character and whatnot. She's legit throwing herself around the livingroom as if in a fight scene and actually getting hurt doing it. She's messaged several times about having cut her foot on something or banged her arm or hit her head on something while "acting". Frankly I'm concerned, but she sees no harm in it. I want her to see a therapist and talk to someone but she refuses. I dont know what to do, guys....
Frustrated and At wit's end,
Good afternoon/morning/evening/Saturday? TGG friends,
Yes, It's me again. No I havent died and no, nothing super dramatic has happened. I've just taken a lot of time to sort myself out and try and get my head straight.
You'll be glad to know that I have been 'clean' or 'sober' of self harm for several weeks, and I am so far really loving my job. So far, I have not had a single day of dreading a workday aside from merely just being exhausted, getting used to 3rd shift. But it's getting easier. Speaking of, this'll be short since I'm on my way back to sleep.
I've decided to cease communication (temporarily, I think.....) with a dear friend/sister of mine I met a year ago due to added stress and frustration. Seemed like every single time we talked, we fought. And I really just couldnt deal with it anymore. I've gotten a bit better with the silence and feel slightly better, though not 100% yet. But at least it's something.
On another note, the cutting. I forced myself to stay away from it in attempts to keep that section of my bicep clean of open wounds...because I was going to cut myself off from it for good. How you might ask? Well, the pictures will explain.
"We are not defined by how hard we fall"
It took about four hours to do the outlining, and I go back in a few weeks to do the shadowing and detail work. My dear cousin and awesome tattoo artist Tim in Montpilier VT did everything freehand for me to make sure it were unique and custom, and I thank him greatly for it. It were insanely painful to deal with at times, especially around the top of the shoulder and back of the armpit area. But with something like this to look at every time I want to cut into that area, I know it'll stop me. Why would I destroy something I worked so hard for? Something I went through so much pain to accomplish? It's the theory anyway, and I'm staking a lot on that theory.
Besides, the bf will strangle me if I cut up this tattoo. By the time it's done, it would have costed me about 800$ including tip. Out of my surgery funds I've saved myself. 800$ is not 10,000$, which is what I need for my surgery. So why not use it for something that might help me? Hurts to use my hard saved money that was reserved for my surgery, but I dont see myself getting it any time soon.....if at all. But....yeah. So now you all know what I've been up to.
All my thoughts with you,
So, my therapist had me do a project. Well, ex-therapist. I quit her, but I never did the project. Decided to do it tonight. She wanted me to write about how I felt with my 'conditions.'
Here ya go.
"Imagine a desert. No beginning and no ending. Nothing in sight but sand and an occasional breeze. It’s humid and agonizingly hot, every breeze that wanders through only seems to increase the heat. Every direction in which you wander only seems to send you in the same looping circles, though you cannot tell because there are no markers and no footprints. Nothing to occupy you while you wander aimlessly and afraid. You feel no thirst in this desert. No hunger in your belly. But instead of these things, you instead suffer such an overwhelming sense of failure that nothing seems worthwhile. Every step you take is agony. Your feet burn from the sand, yet you cannot bare to stand in one spot for too long, fearing you may scream from the pain. Yet it doesn’t matter, because every scream that escapes your lips is silent. Every wail and cry is unheard in this vast and seemingly empty desert of sand and dune. No one can hear your grief. No one can comfort your fear. Ghosts only occupy your mind, though they whisk away as nothing but sand with empty and concerned eyes. There seems to comfort from this burning hell, and nothing seems to comfort and relieve you. It is as if you’re burning apart from the inside out, turning hollow and dark. You think you see shadows of guests in your own personal hell, but alas, they only turn away and disappear into the dunes. Mirages, simply put there to make you hope before making you weep. There seems to be no escape, yet you’re not even sure how you got there to begin with. All you can do is wander, and wait, and hope that someone somewhere will rescue you.
These things are Depression.
Imagine that you are within a room. It is a tiny room, to be honest. This tiny room has only four walls of a bland grey, the floor covered in broken and cracked tiles of unidentified color. Should you know this color? Have you forgotten this color? The ceiling is low against you. So low that it actually forces you to remain laid down upon that floor, curled up in an uncomfortable position, struggling to find relief from this frustrating situation. No position seems to help, and every part of your body hurts from the attempts to find one. Not only can you find no comfort, but from places unknown, noise vibrates through these walls. These grey, oddly crowding walls. Are they shrinking? Have they gotten shorter? Perhaps you should have noticed this. Have you gone crazy? These noises make no sense. They jumble together like spilt scrabble pieces, making no sense but reaching you nevertheless. Screams inaudible. Nails upon chalk, a pounding like hundreds of hammers against your little walls. Wailing for unknown ailments, furious yelling as though angry creatures stalk for you. Should you remain quiet? Or are they here to help you? No, you remain quiet. Perhaps it is best. The noises never dull. They never quit, and they never quiet. Unyielding and demanding, these sounds pester and frighten you in your little box. You need something—anything—to lock out those taunting walls and frightening noises. Anything to make it stop, even if just for a moment to offer you repreave. Yet…you dare not move. You dare not breathe. They might hear you. They might tear apart your walls and discover you. Every scream seems to be your name. Every angry cuss feels as though it were directed at you. Every wail seems to be of your cause, filling you with despair. And among these things, the whispers can be heard. Are they mocking you? Perhaps. Are they rumors of your existence, spoken either kindly or of ill will? You’ll never know. Are they perhaps just comments of your agony, or broken and weak attributes? Can they see you in that box? Or perhaps they are nothing at all. Perhaps you’ve simply lost your mind. Is this all a game that you’re failing? Regardless, they persist. Should you listen? It hurts to hear their sounds. But what if it is something important? Maybe you should know these things. If only it were all silent, you could perhaps breathe. The tiny confinement limits your air, cutting away your ability to think clearly with all the noise and that agonizing sense of dry drowning. You want to escape. You want to flee as far and as fast as you can. But instead, you have to wait for someone to open your box and let you out.
These things are Anxiety.
Your day begins as it always does. You don’t remember when exactly you fell asleep the night before. Or what woke you up today, for that matter. Regardless, here you are. You stare at the ceiling in a sense of hopeless ambition, feeling as though you’re sinking. You almost hope you do, actually. To sink down so far that you will never have to come out. Yet, you do. You somehow insist on getting up, beginning to dress yourself. What will you wear? Will you conform to society’s demands, or will you do what makes you feel normal? Let us assume for a moment that society rules today. You wear what they demand, a sense of aching in your chest as you slip into the clothes that they deem appropriate. You feel ridiculous and hideous, yet you endure it. Perhaps you wander to the bathroom and paint on a face that is not yours? Wearing a mask with bold lettering stating “I’m fine”. Perhaps you will do something with your hair. You’re not entirely sure what to do with it, because everything you attempt seems odd and unfamiliar. As if you’re modeling yourself in someone else’s image. Someone you are not, yet….someone you are. They say you are. They insist you are. With a heavy sigh and a broken heart, you wander from your room. Will you work today? Will you go to school today? It all blends together regardless. It feels as though all eyes are on you. Every detail of yourself seems flawed and obvious, and everyone is whispering about it. You are desperate to hide, even if for a moment. This isn’t you….This isn’t who you are…but its only for today. Right….?
No, let us instead chose that you decide to be yourself. You set aside those things, and you avoid that mask. It has been put away for now, and you can use your authentic smile and enjoy today. You dress as you wish, and do your hair as you please. Yes, this looks right. This looks pleasing for once. Is that a smile I see? Yes, I think it is, actually. Perhaps today will be fine Perhaps today you will enjoy being out of that bed. But wait…they’re still looking at you. Are they looking even more? I cannot tell, to be honest. But…but wait. Those things you don’t like. They’re hidden, aren’t they? Those things that you wish you could remove yourself, but know it will end you for certain. They cannot be seen can they? But it feels as though everyone sees them. Everyone seems to point, even if not physically. They whisper, they talk, then they giggle. Do they know this is really you? Or do they think this is a mask? Do you blend in, or do you stick out like some freakishly abnormal thumb? Perhaps you will be the mask again tomorrow. Perhaps it is safer. But wait…the mask hurts. But doesn’t this hurt? Nothing seems right.
These things are Dysphoria.
Today you are happy. Today you have had no cause of alarm, and you’ve found a rather enjoyable time either playing games or spending time with friends. Your smile is priceless, your joy unavoidable. It seems contagious, as if you have gotten the laughing virus and no one is immune to your illness. You find a smile on the faces of others enjoyable, and you thrive on these things. You giggle and you jump around, having a blast and perhaps even singing without shame. You dance as if your mother will be embarrassed, and you have no shame. But wait…what is this? Where did this darkness come from? Your smile disappears. Your chest aches and you can feel your heart sinking. As if it were a literal disease, your heart sinks into your stomach like the titanic and disappears. You look around, and everyone is still smiling. Why wont they stop smiling? All you can think is “stop smiling at me!”. You want it to stop, and its making you furious. What is this feeling? Where has it come from? Nothing had upset you that you can remember. You were so happy five minutes ago. What changed? People will ask you what they did wrong. You have no answer for them, yet somehow it is annoying that they ask. They will ask you ‘are you angry at me?’ and you will struggle to figure that out. Are you angry with them? But weren’t you just happy with them? Did they do something wrong to you, or have they done something that somehow impacted your emotion? You cant even put words to it. It is as if someone has taken your happy. They have taken that little spark in your eyes and put it in a box, and they’re holding it hostage. Perhaps it will come back. You want people to give it back to you, and you want them to understand that they did nothing wrong. But you wish they’d stop asking you what is wrong. You don’t know what is wrong, and it is frustrating to try and figure it out. But wait, what is this emotion now? Are these new things?
These things are Bipolar.
You have your desk, and it is your own. Your own design, your own order, your own creation. Things are just as you please, and nothing can damage that. You know how things are to be done, and how things will work, and these things make life pleasant. You enjoy your things and your desk, your creations and your order. Yes, your order. The patterns in which you place things, making them as your mind has decided ‘yes, this is right’. You will not understand this order, but you will obey this order. You may try to explain it to others around you, but this is a language that they do not understand. You walk away, pleased with this order. But wait, you come back. Someone has altered your design. They have changed your order. These things are not in their places. Your mind falters like a car out of control, screaming tires and smoke. No, no, no, no! This must be corrected! They have changed things! What has been changed? You cannot decide. No, no, this must not be. These things make your head ache, your heart beat rapidly, your hands sweat and your fingers shake. No, this must not be! You scramble to fix these things. People point and laugh. This is amusing to them. They will alter them later simply to watch you panic once more, though they hardly understand the pain your head feels at this moment. These things must not be so. Your order must persist. Your design must be as it was. Your stomach is in knots, as if this alter of design will cause you harm. As if this change of pace will bring forth a sense of dread unknown to man and misunderstood by all who witness it. Wait…yes…yes, this is better. This is your order. Yes, you have fixed this disaster. You have brought peace to this chaos. You’ve done it! You’ve brought back your order, your design, you have recreated the life in which they have destroyed. Yes, you can breathe now. You can breathe. You can relax. All is well, and all shall remain well. So long as the order is kept…
These things are Over Compulsive Disorder.
There are more of these things.
Perhaps we will speak of these things later.
These things have made me tired.
Also my Mom called me Ren. Kind of a big deal, but I'm still cautious about it. It's not like her to cooperate so well....
So, my mother doesnt call me, and that is completely fine with me! I do not have contact with my older sister either. And when my younger sibling (Changed their name to Kai apparently which is fine with me. Theyre pretty sure theyre FTM as well but I'm respectful at the fact that they've decided not to make perminate choices on the matter until they are POSITIVE theyre transgender. I GREATLY respect them for that!!) has asked me if they can come down to hang out again at some point. I told them that I have no problem with that, but when I come to pick them up, I'll meet them at the end of the driveway. I want nothing to do with my mother. And I've decided that if my mother refuses to call me Warren OR Ren, I'll no longer call her Mom. I'll call her Alene, either she likes it or not.
So today, there was a post on a friend's page about Trump. I was not aware she was friends with my older sister....until this happened.
Me, feeling bad it was on my friends' post, Messaged her apologizing for what was said on her post. To my relief, she responded with "Its OK Amanda is the 1 to b apologizing. Well don't sweat it I'm home n can get to my computer she's about to get hers." Which was kinda nice I think.
She removed the Post, then Posted this:
So I wanted to dye my hair and so something I've never done. I was curious what colors to do and etc, then I saw a message from a good friend
you know who you are!
But you said something that caught my attention. "Stay Frosty". I love jack frost!!!!!!!!! Even the old legends
So blue it is!!!
This required some bleaching which I've never done. But, here's how it went! Opinions welcome lol
Not sure how I feel about it yet lol
If I'm still not 100% thrilled with it, I had planned ahead and bought my usual black dye to fix it at a later time. I think next time I'll just stick to my black hairdye, much less hassle and OMG THE STAINS IN MY BATHTUB!!! Took another 2 hrs of scrubbing to get internet privileges back.....
Not much to update until my consultation aside from someone accusing me of having HIV for being trans and refusing to allow me to serve them a drink because they "werent sure of transgenderism is contagious as it seems to be spreading like HIV and filth".
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RK_jvDoBll0 my new video
Also, going to dye my hair. Not sure what color. Past colors in below photos:
Open to suggestions
Hey guys...I know, right? Been a long time...I havent felt like blogging lately. I even skipped out on my youtube videos because I felt like...I dont know. Like they're not going anywhere. Not doing any good I guess? I'm at a loss
I'm back into that feeling like....nothing I do, does any good. All my waiting for surgery and help is wasted. All my optimism and hoping is falsified.
I'm really....really at a loss you guys.
I broke my cut-free streak again. I couldnt help it...I've tried so long and so hard to stay away from the blades but it just...got to me. Again. Dont get me wrong, I love my new job! I do, I really really do! But being misgendered all the time...it hurts. Probably more than it should, but it hurts regardless. I feel like I'm doing nothing with my life. That I'm just sitting here wasting away. I dont enjoy doing anything anymore. My intentions with youtube and blogging was to help others thrive and 'be okay' but how the hell am I supposed to do that when I cant do it myself? When every attempt I make seems to just....disappoint? Not even disappoint other people but disappoint myself.
I've started to avoid the FTM top-surgery group I'm in. It's just so....sooooooo so so SOOOO depressing to see all these people posting their post-op photos and how happy and proud they are...and I'm stuck where I am. I'm sitting here suffering, mentally and physically, in my female body. I can deal with not having bottom surgery. F***, I'd be okay if my bust size was like.....a B. Or even a C, maybe. Because I'd be able to hide them better. But this? A 44DDD? It's unbarable!
The binding has started to really really take it's toll...
And nothing I do seems to help. It makes me want to cry every time I squeeze into it again because it hurts. It hurts so bad and it limits my breathing so much, and my back feels like it's about to collapse every time I remove it because it's compressed the muscles and whatnot for so long during the day. Not even to mention the heat and sweating and unbarable dehydration I keep fighting because of wearing it! I just....I cant take it! It's driving me crazy...
I have my consultation on the 1st of September. I'm so close but so very far...I've already told my boyfriend.
"Justin...if they tell me no, and insurance wont touch it...you'll need to keep an eye on me. Because I cant promise that I'll take it well."
And its the truth...I know I wont. I can promise that I wont. This is so amazingly frustrating and painful and mentally disabling that if they tell me no...if they say we wont pay for it, you cant have it done, you'll have to deal with it and keep binding...I dont know how much longer I will last.
This has literally become a do or die situation. I just...I cant...
I dont know what to do...
So I realized last night that I hadnt really updated you guys lately. I dont blog NEARLY as much as I used to, but hopefully I can bring it back up at some point
So, so far I am LOVING my new job. The people here are SUPER supportive and understanding, and are well aware of me being transgender. They're totally cool with it, and even said that when it comes time for my surgery, as long as I give them a heads up before hand (which I totally would anyway) I can take the 2 weeks off to heal. My boss has been really cool about it and I love coming to work
As for my youtube, I am still attempting to keep up with it lol I have my new one (probably the shortest vid I've ever done!) and another one coming up at some point in the week. My upload times are scattered now with my new job, since I usually dont get home until around 4am on tuesday so getting up early on wednesday to film and upload is near impossible. I'm so tired! Either way, I'm doing what I can with what I have. Unfortunately my camera on my computer is nearly impossible to use as it freezes and the framerate lags like no other, so I'm reduced to using my ipod to film. Which can be a pain sometimes and looks sooooo unprofessional but....whatever. Use what I got. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3Da5exjrQ8]
In reference to the top surgery, I DID find a surgeon! The hospital I were originally supposed to go with continues to be stubborn in saying "one year of HRT" is their "policy" and they refuse to deviate from it. So I told them I'd take my business elsewhere. I found another guy who does the top surgeries, and have talked to two people who have also gone to him and said he was great. Only bad review I found about him was about a girl getting lip injections and she sounded whiny and demanding so I didnt take it to heart. He does not require HRT or a year's worth of Gender Therapy (which is great because I called to set up an appointment with one of the gender therapist. The list goes on until next year!!!). Originally my appointment were supposed to be for August 18th but they had to reschedule for September 1st because the surgery consultant is on vacation.Which is longer to wait but I'll just have to deal with it.
So far it's looking like the insurance WILL cover the surgery since I am in pain and discomfort which disrupts my daily life, but until I see the surgeon and get all the info, I cannot be sure. Fingers crossed that they'll cover it!! The back pain has been horrible lately I'm now at a 44DDD and my binders hurt to wear, on top of the fact that they dont really seem to do much to hide my "issues" anymore....It's super depressing. While working bar I do get the occassional "mister" or "buddy" or "guy" and "he". But I still get the she, her, miss, etc....There's not much I can do about it. I did mention to my boss out of a joke that it's a pain because sometimes you just cannot correct them without seeming rude, and she patted me on the back and said to give it time. I'm just a super impatient person.
Being back on my Zoloft has helped a little bit, but I'm thinking of increasing the dosage (Yes, my doc said I could. She said to finish this week on 25mg then go to my 50mg that I have stashed away from a previous dose). So we'll see how that goes. I have resisted self harm for about a month now, and although I've had nights when I certainly were ready to break that stride, I have so far stayed away from it. I'm hoping to keep staying cut-free, and keeping myself busy at work seems to help. It's nice because a lot of my job, I'm either super busy or on my own out in the woods, which helps. Seclusion sometimes helps the anxiety.
Anyways, stay awesome!
SO, Long time no see lol Sadly I've not had the chance to upload any youtube videos but I'm hoping to do that tomorrow while I have the day off. Oh yeah, the day off....I LOVE MY JOB.
So far the people I work with have been INSANELY AWESOME. They're so laid back and cool, and I love it. I started my first short-night last night with helping at the bar of the academy (yeah i know what you're thinking. A bar? At a school? But during the summer we host scientists and adults so they get drinking nights lol) and it was awesome. Everyone's so friendly and cool! I did talk to my boss (starr) about being transgender, and she assured me that it was NO problem, and to correct her if she ever uses the wrong pronouns. She's been super awesome about it and I am so super super grateful for it.
The dress code doesnt exist, so it allows me to wear whatever is comfortable which is a huge plus. Cellphones are allowed as long as its not obsessive, which is totally awesome because I'm not comfortable with being out that late at night without some way of calling for help if I needed it. My shifts are going to be on the third shift, which I'm oddly perfectly fine with. Granted I sort of miss my boyfriend, but we'll make it work. Last night I worked from 9pm until around 130am, which was a lot shorter than what my usual hours will be but I was only training for the bar. I even did such a good job keeping up and getting in the hang of it, that they offered me to come back tonight as well which I agreed to do.
Right now I'm sort of bummed on the other hand, and extremely frustrated with waiting for my top surgery. I mentioned in a transgender Facebook group that I'm in that as awesome as it is to see everyone getting their top surgeries and everything, that I'm also sort of bummed out to see it. I in no way meant it as a "stop posting your surgery things" but more as a "I'd love some support right now". But in the end they turned it around to where I'm the bad guy for saying it. In another group that is made JUST for top surgery related issues, I posted my gofundme page as I am fully allowed to do, and got bullied for it. It totally made my depressed mood even worse.
The man responded to my post with "Sure. I'll do that right after I've saved up every single spare penny I've found to fund my own damn surgery" and it sort of hurt. I said "thanks for the sarcasm and making my shitty night that much more shitty" to which he responded with "Dude, everyone here is going through the same struggle as you are to raise money for their surgeries. posting your little whiney 'give me money' page on a page where guys struggle every day isnt helping anyone. I could say the same to you. thanks for making my day shitty by reminding me that i still dont have money for surgery. Stop whining and grow up and stop begging, you're pathetic"
Honestly, I dont like having a gofundme. I feel like I'm begging. But that just made me feel so much more worse and honestly almost drove me to self harm, but I were able to avoid it and just ended up curling up in bed later. Though there were a few other guys who defended me and the rude comments had been deleted, and an admin even stepped in to say that I AM allowed to post my gofundme and I did nothing wrong....it still made me feel like crap.
My once 36D chest (4 yrs ago) is now a painful 44DDD and it hurts...I cant hardly bind anymore. My ribs are killing me. Breathing is agony, and my back aches horrible. Especially when I take my binder off at night because it's been so tight and constricting. But I cant do anything without it...I'm so lost. I cant afford my surgery and its looking like no companies will help me cover it. I'm so disappointed
Trying to stay positive,
So I can legally change the gender on my license with a note from my doctor which I did. But to change it on my Social Security, I need an amended birth certificate or bottom surgery proof? Wtf kind of crap is that? 0.o So to some paperwork I'll be a guy and to others I'll be a girl. Yeah, that totally makes life easy systems' screwed up, man....
So I cannot remember if I mentioned it or not, but my state just VERY recently approved the law which allows transgender folks to get a piece of paper signed by their doctors for their GENDER IDENTITY and bring it to their local DMV, to legally and without any further need for verification, CHANGE their gender on their drivers license Now, IMMEDIATELY when I found out about it I ran to the local library and paid the 50cents to print out a copy, and ran it to my doctor while pleasantly asking that she look it over and see if it's alright for her to sign it. It was incredibly hard not to beg her desperately while pleading on the floor for her to sign the damn thing, but I had to go off faith that she would understand.
So I waited patiently and called the next day to see if she had a chance to read it over, but to my surprise she simply giggled and said "I glanced over it. I trust you. It's already signed but I'd like a copy for my own records so I can change your gender here as well." SO SHE FILLED IT OUT!
So I had a very long day today. It started with running to the doctors to pick up that paper, then I ran to the hospital to pay off my late monthly fees (woman was cranky as hell, rude old brod) then I spent nearly half an hour at the pharmecy waiting for my prescripion (they accidentally filled the wrong one so I had to wait all over again). After that, my boyfriend and I drove about an hour to the "city" to our DMV to file said paperwork. I were there two hours....one and a half hour of that time was spent just waiting in line. While there some (possibly homeless or insane?) gentleman kept following me around and asking if I were going the direction he needed to get to. I explained I dont know my way around that particular city very well, and I were on a bit of a tight scheduel today so I couldnt give him a ride. (Mostly because I REALLY werent comfortable doing it. The guy seemed very strange....and OMGGGG did he REEK of urine!!!) This man fought with the DMV personnel for about an hour about what his name was, not knowing his address, mixing up his birth dates, etc....I kind of felt bad for him and attempted to find him a cab to get to where he was going, but the man were so whack-o I couldnt get him to stand in one spot long enough for the cabbie to pick him up. Oh well, I tried >.<
ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING...................I AM NOW LEGALLY MALE!!! My driver's license will arrive in a few weeks, saying male, NOT female!!
Now, what sort of puzzled me about it was my reaction. When I got my name changed it was incredibly liberating. I was practically dancing in the streets with joy from it, and it made me cry like a big baby who just got given a jar full of cookies for himself. But with the gender thing, yes it made me smile, but it was more like a shrug it off as if "okay, that's done. Finally!". More like a relief than a huge gift. Granted for me it IS a gift. A HUGE gift, considering 4 weeks ago it was not a possibility in my state. But it were not as jaw-dropping amazing as the name change. Nevertheless, I'm thankful!!
On another note:
I GOT THE JOB!!! Monday I go in and sign paperwork Which is why I were in such a hurry to get the gender change done, because it'll make paperwork less hectic. I werent sure what else to change quickly beforehand, and the Social Security office were closed so I couldnt do that today. So I'll just explain to my future-boss that it's a little complicated but nothing I cant smooth out soon.
And although I have sadly had to dip into my surgery funds (not the gofundme one, some I had saved on my own) to pay for late medical bills, I'm glad that I'll soon be able to put more money back into it. On a side note, I'm also making more jewelry as I had attempted to earlier this year, and am slightly more hopeful for it. I've started a paypal account, and making products not only because I'm bored, but it seems to soothe me a little. Helpful I guess.
Anyway, that's it for now.
Dysphoria was hitting hard today. Has been for the past few days, actually.
Although today while I were at the store, someone in the line behind me called me Sir which was awesome. But it was too hard to enjoy it when I were in pain. I refuse to go anywhere anymore because it hurts...I cant wear my binder anymore. My chest size has AGAIN gone up. Bumping me from a DD to a DDD size. I'll admit, its soul crushing. It made me want to curl up in a ball and cry until it eventually killed me. It hurts....the weight, the binding, my ribs...It just hurts so much. And there's nothing I can do about it. It hurts not only emotionally but physically, more than I could possibly express. My ribs ache like never before, and going to my doctor about it was only a punch in the gut. "Only thing I can suggest is stop binding. There's nothing else I can do to help other than your muscle relaxant meds I gave you..." she said. I dont hate her for it, she's doing what she can. But there's only so much she CAN do.
On top of that, its fourth of July. But here I sit, home by myself, because my boyfriend went with his family to the family BBQ...which I cannot attend without a fight breaking out about me being transgender being a cry for attention. His sister-in-law even had the balls enough to message him with "im here if you ever need to talk about it". Like...really!? Thanks, I know he would appreciate talking to someone now and then, but what about me!? The person the family is shunning!?!?!?
I want my surgery....I want it so bad and there's nothing I can do about it. No loans I can take out I can afford to pay off. They all want 300$ minimum for monthly payments, and I'm lucky to have 20$ in my pocket. I found a place where I can get it dont for 4500$ instead of the 9000$ but its all the way in the bottom of the country. I cant do that....Everything I want or need is so far out of my reach that it just makes me want to curl up and say **** the ****ing world, I'm done.
I cant even bind anymore. And I cant afford a new binder. Even if I could..it hurts......so wtf is the point.......
Only good news is if I change my VT birth certificate to Male, all of NH's documents has to honor that and change things to Male. But, again....what the **** is the point when I'm got DDD breasts that I can no longer hide? Feels like I'm slowly mentally killing myself here....And there's nothing I can do about it.
So first I wanted to respond to a few things in my last blog because posting comments was getting confusing.
"May I ask, does your boyfriend consider himself a Straight or Gay man? Do you consider yourself a Straight or Gay man? From my interaction with you and looking at your pictures (I have very sensitive "Gaydar"), you come across as a Straight man. Of course, I could be wrong." The answer to this would be no, Justin does not consider himself gay, and is 100% Straight. Which, yes, confuses the situation a little bit, but I respect his sexuality. I, myself, am Pansexual. So that makes my life a little easier lol. So I'm a fraction of both gay and straight but more open than Bisexual
"If this is actually an agreement - she asked for rent and named the amount, then the space in her house that is not considered common area is yours, and she cannot enter your space unannounced when you are not there unless there is an emergency. Otherwise, any entry must be scheduled and you must be notified in advance."
We did agree to pay a certain ammount (Justin and I as a couple) but no paperwork were signed so it is not a legal agreement and She can toss me out as just a 'guest' in her house. We live in one house, and my bedroom is literally considered "her sons room" to her and she claims to have free range over the whole house. Either she's right or wrong in the situation, doesnt matter because I cannot avoid it right now.
As such the situation has gotten more and more Frustrating. Last night I came home and my bedroom door were wide open (not the first time) giving all the animals of the house free roam of it, which is VERY enfuriating considering some of her EIGHT cats pee on things. Not only that, but my native american medicine wheel and safeguard disk were on the floor in the hallway, both of which my deceased father gave me, CHEWED UP and basically ruined. This is the third time this week that I have come home to my door open and either my razors stolen, my room trashed, things knocked over, things missing, or the room just left open for access of the stupid animals that she is hoarding. Today I locked the bedroom door before leaving but there's no promises that they wont find a way to open it anyhow. I just dont understand how two people who earn (debatable, its sometimes a government disability check) cant just go out and buy their own damn razors or stay out of my room. There is nothing in there for them. They dont like it if I go in their rooms! It's beyond obnoxious, and I hate being there. But as we've all agreed, no point in taking action until I have the funds or job to find my own place.....
ANYWAY, its wednesday, and my computer decided to be a d*** and not work. So I did my videos on my ipod which was obnoxious but productive. Here ya go.
So, I need a little advice. But first I want to apologize if I annoy you guys or have fallen away from my "help others" phase and just been stuck in my "fml" stage. I dont mean to
Anyway, this is about my boyfriends mother. We live with her and her family, none of which really support me or go along with my name change or anything because its my way of "attention seeking" apparently. But her constantly calling me Kristy and lately, lady, miss, girl, chick, all of which you can tell she is doing simply to upset me, is really starting to upset me. It's getting worse, and it totally messes with my dysphoria and depression and self harm. Which, apparently, is also for attention. According to her. She's even gone as far as to tell my neighbor while talking to her to NOT call me Warren because it is NOT my name and not to "feed into her need for drama".
I guess my question is....this has gone on for about 6 months? Should I just put my foot down and damn the consequences and flat out tell her MY NAME IS NOT KRISTY and tell her I'll ignore what she says unless she calls me ren or warren? Or should I just ignore it...? If she wants to throw me out, I wont be homeless. My neighbor already told me her house is there if it ever came down to it, and I'll always have a place to stay. But I'm just so......SO F***ING sick of being dragged back into my feminine name and past by her.
Tonight I went out and heard a bunch of dishes slamming around, so i went and asked whats up and she said "apparently no one can f***ing do anything except me". I'm like ....what? she snapped "no one's let the f***ing dogs out since i left for work" and i told her i let them out when i got up, and she ignored me. Then she went on to say nothing else got done and i told her 'well...i did the dishwasher..." and she gave me an attitude like "that's it?" More than her precious Princess daughter does.
I'm just severely frustrated and dont know what to do about this....I dont want to make the wrong move...
On another hand, tomorrow I have an interview for a Security Personnel position I REALLY REALLY want so wish me luck.
Okay so I wanted to throw up a really quick blog entry for my friend Amy, who has recently decided to start up her Youtube channel with an introduction video
If you guys/girls would like to check it out, please feel free to give her a thumbs up and some support (my brain is so fried from no sleep i wrote thamb up and some supper lol guess im hungry XD)
Sending some love your way, Amy!!
Milestones are fun lol
So yesterday was a rare awesome day. First started off with me waking up to the LEGAL NATIONWIDE GAY MARRIAGE!!!!
Omagerd I was so happy!!! Originally I was like "it doesnt include me, but I'm excited anyway!" until I realized it DOES include me. If/When I change my Gender to male, if I ever want to marry a man, that includes me!! After that I got a call about my broken down jeep, so I went to investigate. After a week of searching for solutions, they realized its two cheap parts and they can do it in an hour. So, it's there waiting for me and I'm so happy I didnt have a blown transmission!! I got more ingredients for my smoothie-kicks lol (NO KALE!!! ew.....) and was pretty happy about that. Got home to three letters. Two from the state insurance (I think I got accepted, but dont understand the papers. I left a message for my agent at the hospital who will help me figure it out lol) which would include gender therapy in the future I also FINALLY got copies of my file from my ex-therapist Joan, with a paper I'd requested acknowledging her awareness and working through with me about the transgender issues for a while. The woman sucks at writing them, obviously having never done them before. It literally says "I worked with Kristy/Warren since _______ regarding her transgender issues. We no long are in therapy sessions due to her financial difficulties."
Wow, that kinda blows lol but thanks? SO all in all it werent a bad day Today.....today I hit another milestone of being a man
I've always had to shave my mustache, ever since I were about 14. My upper lip, and pluck some black hair from under or around my chin. It's always been there, and I've always had to manage it. (Further proof I'm not supposed to be a woman? 0.o) but today...Today I looked in the mirror and noticed my face had new friends. Last night I had to trim my sideburns and around my ears since I'm growing my hair out a little bit. But all along my jawline and underneath I have blonde hairs. Peachfuzz I guess. But theyre long o.o Like....REALLY long. I pulled one off my shoulder that was almost two inches long!!! So....I shaved. So exciting and so small but damn if it didnt feel right!
Aftershave smells so good, I'll admit. It's just a tiny thing and to some people it might seem silly, but to me....It's like someone handed me a free softserve icecream cone.
So, yeah. That's my day so far Well, yesterday lol. OH and my sister DID call to invite me to my niece's fake-birthday party. Ironically she planned it for a day that I have a docs appointment so I had a legit excuse. Foiled her dastardly plans!!!
BACK TO MY BUFFALO CALZONE!!
So....been another hurtful, stressful, discouraging day. Yesterday's bulls*** has dragged on my mind all night, limiting my sleep, and bringing me down today.
She purposefully calls me her "daughter kristy" just to piss me off....I dont get it...
14 hours ago
Me:Please dont call me your daughter kristy because I am neither of those things. I dont appreciate the post you put up. It's really disrespectful.
I sent her that^^^^^message and she has since blocked me...
So, yeah. I'm a little down. But here's my youtube vid for this week....I ranted a little
So, first off I want to apologize for my last blog post, I apparently was having a bad day/night and needed to vent. I do want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement and assure you that I am less RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWRRRRRR today and more ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz JUST BECAUSE IM THAT BIPOLAR.
Yup, that is my life.
SO, on another note, it IS Wednesday, and as some of you may know, it is my YOUTUBE POST day. So I have posted my weekly youtube post, and here ya go>>>>
or (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y04F-D5GmvU) for those of you that the video doesnt show up on. Just...ya know.....click it. I SAID CLICK IT~!
Surprised that I have a good handful of subscribers already but who knows? Maybe this was a good idea after all! Gives me something to do anyway.
Otherwise nothing going on. Therapist still wont send me my files, I have to call them AGAIN in about an hour, which leads me to wonder if I even have a file or if she was just bullshitting me the whole time and has NOTHING written down which would annoy me to no end.
And despite what I have been told, I have decided to stop taking my Zoloft. Not only because I've been off from it for two weeks anyway (headache free, might I add) but because I notice NO DIFFERENCE with taking it versus NOT taking it. I get the same depressing outcome anyway, so.......why add more chemicals to my day if they're not at least beneficial? Seems a waste. ANYWHORE, I'm going out for dinner at Papa Gino's (pizza place) with the bf tonight despite my soul-crushing dysphoria, so wish me luck on that one that I dont have a mental breakdown and shatter some faces
SIDENOTE: Omagerd I soooooo wanna get some transpride buttons for my backpack or something. I'm not so huge on the tshirts because for whatever reason I almost feel awkward (not embarrassed just.....pass) on wearing my trans pride shirts. Simply because I get a lot of awkward stares or disapproving glares WHICH I KNOW I SHOULD IGNORE but it still gets to me. SO, I think I'll stick to my plaids.
Havent cut in two-or three- days so I guess that's a plus. Got all my aggrivation out I guess, I dont know.
Sometimes I cant help but wonder if its really just the bipolar that puts me down.
That beats me down, puts me in the dirt, and keeps my face in the sludge while laughing in my face. Ever time I seem to be doing fine…every time things are looking up, something always grabs me by the throat and shoves me back down. Puts me in my place. Regardless of how far I’ve come, regardless of how many people I help, and regardless of how well I can front a smile---its breaking me down just to get up in the mornings.
I don’t want to eat. I cant sleep more than a few hours at night, or eighteen without warning. I cant keep my hands away from my blades, and away from my arm. I cant get up in the morning with optimism without having something, ANYTHING, reminding me that I’m a waste of space and I’m not going anywhere. Maybe no one said anything bad to me. Maybe people finally left me alone for ten minutes without getting in my face. Regardless, I still cannot remove myself from the darkness within the confines of my own mind. There’s times when all I want to do is wander off and start a fight with someone I don’t even know. To feel the crunch of bone under my fist and the sting of broken knuckles. To FEEL SOMETHING. Other than the life crushing depression and anger that swallows me up all the time. Yeah, I have my medications. No, I haven’t been taking them. Why? Because they don’t help me regardless. I can be faithful with them, taking my pills every morning like a good little spud. But that night you’ll still find me curled up and bloodied. You’ll still find me reaching for those blades, and you will absolutely still find me angry at the whole world with no one to blame.
I have no reason to be pissed off. I have no reason to be depressed. But I am.
I feel as though the whole world is against me, although I’m not even out in that world. I stay hidden in my room, moping. Laying in bed in all hours of the day, just staring at the ceiling. Nothing to occupy my time. And if I did have something, I don’t enjoy it. Nothing I do keeps me satisfied for more than an hour or two. I fall asleep at four in the morning, aching with backpain. My head throbbing from furious aggression boiling up with nothing to dispense it on. Every turn I take, something’s blocking the path. Every time I raise my fists to free up my path again, I get lost. Something turns me around, and I start walking in circles. It’s like living in my own personal labrynth, invisible to everyone but me. All the turns look the same, all the paths walked on already. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.
I haven’t seen my doctor about any of this because what’s the point? They’ll just give me more medications that make me more sick than healthy. There’s nothing they can do about my overwhelming dysphoria that seems to shred every existence of a calm. I cant look in the mirror without a skull cracking aggressive response to want to shatter the glass with my bare fists. I cant shower without glancing down at myself and wanting to beat and bruise myself until I cant take it anymore. I hate how I look. I hate how I feel. I’m so damn angry all the time I cant even cry.
I mentioned my issues to a professional and all she did was direct me to a suicide hotline. Here’s my input on it though. Anyone who’s suicidal and feels beyond help, isn’t going to SEEK that help. They don’t want to pick up the phone and listen to someone fake up all these reasons that they’re important and need to stick with it! They don’t know you, they don’t know your problems, and even if you explain it, how the hell is one more stranger involved in your life supposed to heal your anguish?
I thought I was doing better. I thought I was getting by.
I thought wrong.
I cant even talk to my sisters without wanting to just shut my ipod off, roll over in bed and play dead. I get angry over nothing. Snap about nothing. Complain then feel like crap for involving other people in my problems. Useless waste of breath, just to ruin someone elses day and drag them down with you. And it's not even their faults. My Sister Des does everything, EVERYTHING she can to try and make me happy. Sending me messages every morning to make sure I'm okay. Trying her best to cheer me up and remind me that words are only words, and no one can ruin my life unless I let them. But.....I just cant stop myself. I have no control over my own emotions anymore.
I remember being like this when I was sixteen. My only solution was to go out and f*** away my problems with people I hardly knew, just to feel all my energy and anger be used up and wasted away. But it never really got rid of my emotional overload. Just made them fester and question myself. My sexuality, my identity, my personal worth…I just sit here and stare at nothing. Think nothing. Fists shaking and a bountiful pile of bloodied tissue next to me.
Yes, I cut. I’m not even ashamed of it. Why should I be? Some people smoke and get lung cancer. Some people smoke weed and rot their brains. Some people shoot up and destroy their organs. Some people are alcoholics and destroy their lives. I made little slices, watch it bleed, and call it a night. I’m not hurting anyone, and its not going to kill me. It’s no where deep enough to even be a risk. So why f***ing stop? What’s the point?
I don’t want my breasts. I want them gone, and it’s a struggle every day not to just do it myself. I like my hair short, despite the backstabbing crap I hear from my boyfriends mother behind my back about it. I HATE being called a girl all day by her. Being called Kristy. Being told she will never ever accept me as I am. Being lied about. Her and my mother and my older sister running their f***ing mouths saying “SHE is only that sexuality because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”.
“SHE is only transgender because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”
“SHE only cuts herself because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”
“SHE only changed her name because SHE WANTS ATTENTION”
HAVE I GOT YOUR ATTENTION NOW? Because that’s all anyone seems to think that I need. Attention.
When all I really want….is for everyone to leave me alone.
I just want to feel….okay. I’m sick of helping everyone else when I know, I KNOW, I cant even help myself. I just want to disappear…
And I don’t know why I’m even blogging this…
But there you go. My blog for the night. Enjoy.
Or, I guess, Kristy. Since that's all anyone seems to care about outside of my computer.
I got busy doing something here at home and completely forgot to post a blog >.<
Forgive me! You know I love you all and would never forget you! Just the blog......
So it was a while ago, and I dont remember if I showed you all, but here goes nothing.
I finally got my letter
Now, I'm still working on getting a simular letter form my ex-therapist, Joan. Along with a copy of my file. But she's been increasingly stubborn on the subject and they still have not sent one, even after me paying to print out a release form, sign it, and drive it over to them. BUT, on another hand, I have something for the Gender Therapist and Surgeons. Next time they want to throw the "you have to go on hormones" thing in my face, I'll have back up.
"Do I need to be on testosterone in order to have top surgery?"
"Top surgery does NOT require Hormones. Many of the patients over the years have not been on hormones and never plan on taking hormones. A male contour can still be achieved"
So, HA! TAKE THAT YOU BULLSHITTER!!
Cant pull the wool over MY eyes!
Oh yeah, and here's weezie lol shes feeling much better!
So I figured I'd stop in with yet another update, on two things.
First off, the dog I were helping care for down the road (Weezie) is doing much better! Her owner/mother took her to an emergency veterinary clinic because she were still very worried about her. I were supposed to go with her but overslept and never got her messages, so I missed it. BUT, The vets decided to keep her overnight because of her age so they could examine her and run a few tests. They found that she were severely dehydrated, so she was put on an IV overnight, and much to her delight, spoonfed food. I were correct on the gas, afterall, and they found that she had a gastro-intestinal blockage. Given another week or so, she probably would have passed away. Also the severe shedding were simply because she is an older dog, and we did have a really hard winter, So this is what they refer to as a "hard shed" due to excess oils in her hair and its just a LOT more than normal.
I'm pleased to report that she is doing MUCH better and is roaming around very happily, freshly groomed and bathed, her nails clipped and ears cleaned. She got very pampered and she loved it! She's now walking and roaming back to normal, and is fully able to get herself up and around without assistance.
Also, It's wednesday!! Which means another youtube video
It were certainly a bit longer than I had planned, but I were half awake this morning so it's sort of slapped together >.< Enjoy, and feel free to give me ideas and whatnot
Lots of love and not much to report otherwise,
Hey guys, girls and uniques
So someone asked me to update everyone on the new look for my gofundme account, and I'll include that below.
Not much has happened really, not much to blog about anyway. Aside from my neighbor calling in tears because her elderly doberman-mutt dog, Wheezie, was told to be put down by an emergency Vet. The poor 13 yr old pup was laying on the floor in her own feces, whining and unable to stand, her hind legs stretched out towards her front awkwardly. My neighbor, who is like a mother to me, was reasonably very upset.
So I got some home remedies (cats claw and tumeric) to bring down and help little Wheezie with the pain. I was able to get the old girl up onto her feet after feeling her stomach, and realizing she were very gassy. Almost like Colic. Only intending on getting her up and moving around to help with the pain, I were relieved that she were more than willing to relieve herself OUTSIDE. Thats why she was whining! The poor baby knows she's not allowed to make messes in the house, but she simply couldnt stand up to go out. So after some help and walking around, I were very impressed to see her start walking around without my assistance with holding up her waist with a towel wrapped around her. She moved better as time went on, and I came to the conclusion that her Vet....is an idiot. She's not dying, she has a hip problem, and cannot get up on her own. She's old.
He judged her inability to live simply because her hair is falling out in clumps (duh, its spring. she's shedding!) and didnt even feel her hips or digestion to give her a proper exam. I grew up around animals from bears, hawks, deer, a dozen pet raccoons and even a pet skunk. Horses, cows, ducks, you name it! I'm not animal-stupid, that's for sure. And even a low-tech Vet Tech like me could tell this animal isnt ready to die. After giving her Cats Claw and Tumeric with dinner, I told my neighbor (Anne Marie) that I would be down later tonight with a dog halter/harness (like a vest) to help her outside to use the bathroom. I were extremely pleased and surprised, however, not only to find her laying on the blankets I had laid down for her---but she got up, on her own! No assistance needed, and she went down the stairs (though a bit wobbly) without my help. Drastic Improvement! Hoping for the best for the old girl!
http://www.gofundme.com/giveWarrenaHand <<<<<<<updated version
I've been seeing a lot of hate lately towards the gorgeous Caitlyn Jenner, and frankly...its saddening. I know it is difficult for people to understand the gravity and complexity of being Transgendered unless they have LIVED it. No one will understand it unless they have witnessed it in their own lives, or gone through the judgement of something in which you have no control. Many saying she is no hero. She is not courageous. Well what you may not realize, is she is a hero. Perhaps not a metal of honor or a survivor of a battle, but a hero to others who aspire to be like her. To the Transgender Community. You see, there are many levels of courage. It all depends on who is looking at it. Not saying that soldiers arent courageous, dont get me wrong! They have a lot of courage and guts, and I know it takes a lot of heart, soul and dedication to be a soldier in war.
But no matter what they do they'll always be considered a hero. Transgenders.....no matter what we do, we're freaks and outcasts. A soldier can wear his uniform in public and get handshakes and appreciation. Transgenders get beat up and pointed at and parents shooing their kids away. Suffering names like "tranny" and "fa**ot" and countless other things. We cannot even use the correct bathrooms, or ANY public bathroom, without ridicule and heart breaking judgement. Just...you know....just saying. I know you're gonna say "well soldiers die for their country" and I agree with that fact, though I may not agree with the reasons for them to give their lives, but nevertheless I agree that its tragic. But transgenders also die... Maybe not for their country, maybe not in uniforms, and maybe not with honor. But for their lack of identity and ability to be who they truely are. They commit suicide from abandonment of their families and friends. Because the mental turmoil and cruelty they endure is just as big of a battle as one overseas. And if they dont commit suicide...they're sometimes even murdered. For being alive.... Just food for thought.